


Close your eyes and think of the Ancient

by Ravatta



Category: Dota 2
Genre: BDSM, Breathplay, Cousin Incest, M/M, Older Characters, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape Fantasy, painal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:56:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3686130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravatta/pseuds/Ravatta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rattletrap and Kardel get it on after work, and by "get it on" i mean "Rattletrap goes to town and Kardel does his best to stay still and keep quiet".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close your eyes and think of the Ancient

**Author's Note:**

> This is a BDSM scenario, featuring rape roleplay. It's not made explicit until the end of the story, so i figured i'd give you a heads up now if the subject is triggering to you.

He told himself to be strong and take it well, but no matter how many times he repeated that mantra, his heart still pounded hard in his chest, his knees and hands were shaking with tension and he was glad the table he was bent over kept him up.

His pants, bunched in a pile around his ankles. Shirt riding up over his chest up to the middle of his back. Rattletrap's discarded gloves were tossed aside in a pile with their goggles and armor pieces, kicked in a corner of the room.

Kardel's eyes screwed shut and a gasp escaped his lips as the feeling returned, the dry burn of the other man's finger sliding inside of him, the only lube his own saliva. Although the Sniper was no expert in the matter, the dull pain of his body -fighting the intrusion and yelding every inch with as much discomfort as possible- told him it was going to be a though half hour for him.

The finger was sliding in and out of him now, the feeling of each rough callus and sudden changes of pace a reminder of how alien this all was. Kardel didn't remember feeling this anxious when he fucked for the first time, not even when he'd been so scared he'd come too early and she'd laugh at him for sure.

Least then he'd been as much in control as she was. Now, with a strong hand pressing in the middle of his back, crushing him against the table, he was reminded that he'd have to fight his way out of it, should he change his mind.

So he did his best to keep every breath steady, feet planted on the ground, hands pressing against the desk on each side of his ribs. Looking at the rough wooden grain of the surface as if it was the most interesting thing going on.

Rattletrap's finger slid out almost completely and then thrust back in as far as it'd go and he breathed in sharply.

-You're not... Not giving me much to work with here. Heh.- he turned slightly to look his cousin in the eye, and saw a spark of amusement and something he couldn't decipher in the familiar features. The hand that wasn't fingering him was grasping at his own crotch, struggling to undo the belt buckle and rip his pants down enough. A spot of precum stained the front and Rattle chuckled at the sight.

-Guess you're in luck. This should help.- he gestured to the wet stain and Kardel nodded sharply before turning back to look at the oh-so-interesting surface of the table.

The sound of clinking metal, a rustle of cloth and shuffling made his heart pound harder. Part of him said he should at least look back. The other part wanted to move as little as possible. He was gonna be as close to a wet, dead fish as he possibly could. Then maybe Rattle would get bored and leave him alone.

He gasped, feeling the finger he'd been fucked with slid out, both of his cousin's hands clamping hard against the Sniper's wrists.

-Give me a hand here...- He mumbled, pressing them against his ass cheeks. -spread open. Like this...- Kardel obeyed, a cold sort of shame spreading from his chest to his limbs, leaving them numb. He'd never felt so humiliated and exposed before and by the Gods, he fucking hated it.

His heart pounded hard, blood flow as loud as a river in his eardrums. The sniper was breathing from his mouth now, teeth clenched and air escaping from the gap between his front teeth.

He kept expecting something that wouldn't come, and the sudden, total lack of physical contact was unnerving. He tried to turn around and look back at Rattletrap, and the touch came back then- a hand pressing against the back of his head, not hard enough to crush his face against the table, but enough to keep him still.

More seconds passed, slow as molasses. His fingers dug in the soft skin of his cheeks, and that feeling of vulnerability burned hard.

-What are you waiting for?- The sniper finally growled, looking up with one eye at his cousin. His laugh made him jump, a hearty sound he was intimately familiar with, and the hand that had been pressing his head patted him on the shoulder instead.

-Ahah... I'm sorry, you just looked really cute. I was just messing with you.- Rattletrap's voice dropped low in tone and volume as he lay over Kardel's back, heavy legs and stomach and chest pressed against his bent form. -Guess you really want it, huh?-

-Shut up. Let's... Let's just get this over with.- he growled back, looking away. Another pat on the shoulder, and the weight was lifted from him, leaving more space to breathe, something he was grateful for.

He knew what was coming but a gasp still escaped his lips as he felt the warm, moist head of Rattle's cock press against his ass. One hand was once again pressed in the middle of his back, two burning points of contact every nerve ending in his body instantly focused on.

His heart raced as that burning hot cock was rubbed in a circular motion against him, slow and careful.

He'd run it in circles and then press for a few seconds, which would make every muscle in Kardel's body tense up, then stop and go back to that strange rubbing motion. It went on like this for a couple of minutes or so, a long time to spend constantly tensing up in fear and anticipation, and it was all the Sniper could do not to scream to just ram him instead of this stressful teasing.

He was about to, cold sweat running down his forehead and brow knit tight in anger and tension, when the weight focused on the hand in the middle of his back doubled and he felt the head push in, this time not going back to the circular motion. Rattletrap breathed out hard, a slow exhale that tickled the hair on Kardel's back, and pushed hard against his tense, muscular body.   
Where in the world his cousin had gotten the idea the wet spot of precum would make this any easier, the Sniper did not know. His whole body tensed like a violin string, despite his attempts to calm down and let it happen more easily.

He wasn't so lucky. His body gave way slowly and bitterly, and his only comfort in it was that, judging from how slow his cousin was moving and the sharp, low gasps and grunts coming from him, that this slow, difficult penetration was painful to both of them.

But Rattle never really gave up when he wanted something, and he powered through all the way, until his crotch was pressed tightly against Kardel's ass. He gasped, breathing hard from his mouth, eyes foggy. It burned, it hurt, his knees felt weak and the pressure was cutting off air from his lungs, but he didn't dare move or speak.

He just grunted when he felt that thick, beer can-thick cock slide out until only the head was in, then push back inside, this time a little faster, a little harder.

The sniper brought both hands in front of him, one scratching the table, the other gripping its end hard, bracing himself. With every moment that slow, seesawing push in and out gained a more regular pace, increasing in speed. Occasionally, Rattle would pull all the way out and use more spit as lube, then grab Kardel's hips and thrust back in, a snap of his hips that pushed the other hard against the table, tearing a grunt of pain from his mouth.

Bracing himself had been a good idea. He needed something to focus on outside of the discomfort and pain. The wood under his fingertips, the pressure against the edge, splinters leaving prinpicks of pain in the skin folds under each phalange.

-Gods...- He gasped, breathlessly. The only sound in the rooms were their breathing, his grunts and gasps of pain, the slap of flesh against flesh.

Forcing himself to calm down was no use- he was terrified, tense as a violin string and more humilated than ever. As his cousin started figuring out a pace that worked for him- hips snapping forward hard, then sliding out slowly and back in- Kardel felt his defenses lower, as if he'd ran completely out of endorphines to endure, and the next time Rattle pulled out all the way to lube up a little more, then rammed himself all the way in, he screamed.

It was a hoarse, sharp roar and he regretted it as soon as he felt his cousin's body still, breathing hard. Then the weight on the hand pressing hard in the middle of his back doubled again and he picked up the pace again, this time sliding all the way back out before slamming all the way in.

Each thrust tore a scream of pain from his lips, and staying still was getting harder and harder. Tears and sweat ran down the Sniper's face and onto the table and he could hardly see or feel what was going on outside of that raw, burning sensation, of being spread open and fucked hard, dry and painfully.

With every deep, fast thrust, Rattle's cock pressed against his prostate, which sent waves of physical pleasure to every nerve ending in his treacherous body, making his knees weak.

The feeling stopped a scream halfway through, the sound turning to a breathless gasp, and he knew his cousin had noticed because he started trying to do the same- push so hard and rough it tore screams from his raw throat, then angle himself just right to hit that sweet spot, turning the sounds to choked gurgles.

The hand that had been forcing his chest on the table suddenly wrapped around his neck, pulling him up by force, his back colliding against Clock's chest. His knees were weak but the other supported him with one hand around the neck and the other around his hips, choking him and thrusting hard, although not as deeply as before. Kardel couldn't breathe, couldn't scream and just shut his eyes, inches away from going full on- fight or flight mode. Then, Clock was strangling him hard, thrusting one last time all the way inside as he came, warm fluid filling him, pressing so violently against his prostate his own body reacted to it. Thick ropes of cum coated the table. He choked, dark spots clouding his vision as Rattletrap finished up inside him with a few thrusts, each less deep and hard than the previous until he slid out and globs of come stained with blood ran down Kardel's legs.

Then he was sliding out, still holding him by the neck, heavy breath laced with happy laughter.

-Oh man, that was... That was the best sex i've ever had in my life, it's just... Oof!-

Sniper's elbow collided hard against his solar plexus and the hand around his neck finally let go, dropping the man hard against the table as his knees gave way. He coughed, rasping for breath and massaging his neck, tears streaming down his cheeks and wetting his beard.

There was an awkward moment where it was just him breathing and coughing and Clockwerk breathing hard, basking in the awesome feeling of a good, bone-rattling orgasm.

-So...- he started.

-Same time next week?-

Kardel, still rubbing his bruised neck, gave him a thumbs-up.

-Can't wait.- He said, giving a wide, gap-toothed smile.


End file.
